Tuesday, December 2, 2008
we are home....pictures coming soon
Just a quick note to let everyone know that Yenyy and I have returned home safely. I will update the blog again next week w/ the remainder of our travel stories and a link to view all the pictures. A BIG thank you to all of you for your good vibes and concern while we traveled!
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Goa to Cohin via Chenni? (8)
After 3 nights in Goa we headed back to the airport to take our supposed direct flight to the state of Kerala in a city called Cohin (also spelled Kochin). Yes, its confusing, many cities have two different spellings. We booked our flight online and purposefully chose thislight bec. it was direct. We arrive in Cohin (or so we thought) and exited the airport. We had booked our lodging and requested a car pick us up courtesy of the hotel (this is quite common).
When you exit the airport there is always a string of men holding signs for various passengers. It can be quite nerve racking as you walk down the line, hoping that the next sign will have your name on it....as you approach the end of the line, you begin to walk slower and slower dreading the mob of tuk-tuk drivers all clamering at the chance to wisk you away in their tuktuk. If you are one of the unfortunate ones who does not see a sign with your name on it, you try to hide the disappointed look, you whisper that plan B is to find a phone, and you plow head on through the mob, at first with a no thank you, then a no, then just a shake of the head and then just eyes straight forward with a look that a serious destination is in persuit.
We call - the owner says the driver is just 15-20min away. We go back past the mob, behind the safety bars of the airport security line and sit, and wait and wait. 30min later, we call again - supposedly the driver is there waiting for us but we don't see each other. He's supposedly wearing a yellow shirt - this is a small airport mind you - so while Yenyy talks on the phone to the owner, I go and tap various men wearing yellow shirts saying "Delight Hotel?" - fortunately there weren't that many yellow shirt wearing men so I didn't make a huge fool of myself. The hotel owner calls the driver on his cell phone - we continue to have this bizarre 3 way conversation - supposedly he's there we're both supposed to wave - there are the two Americans waving in the middle of the street and this poor driver waving his Delight sign with no progress being made on either end.
"Are you sure you are in Cochin the owner asks". We pull out our ticket stub - show it to the woman whose phone we are using - and ask her if we are in Cochin. She confirms that we are (on reflection we think she might have thought we asked her if our ticket stub said Cochin and not whether we were really at Cochin airport, but who really knows). We ask for the drivers direct cell phone number. We ask the woman to call him since he doesn't speak english very well, but of course neither did the woman who owned the phone. Talk about a serious miss communication and hugely important details being lost in translation - it all happened here.
After two hours of this phone charade, we gave up. It began to rain...hard! The woman invited us into her booth - she was kind and took pity on us. We said we'd just hire another driver - so she called one of the guys over and said to make sure they took good care of us and to drive slow. We were very appreciative of her kindness.
It wasn't until we showed the driver where we were trying to go that we realized we were in Chenni - a completely different State and over a 6 hour drive away. Exhausted, confused and now frustrated we thank the woman - give her a bunch of American coins which she asked if we had and a five dollar bill, and ran back to the airport ticket counter. There had been a mistake...OBVIOUSLY! There was a layover no one told us about that was supposed to be for just 25min - but the plane was delayed for exactly two hours and was going to take off in 10 min. We could still make it....and long story long we did...just barley. And the poor driver - who waited 2hrs driving in circles looking for the non-existant Americans - well we apologized and still paid him, all parties felt bad about it, but in the end we all had a good laugh, and another bizarre story to take home.
When you exit the airport there is always a string of men holding signs for various passengers. It can be quite nerve racking as you walk down the line, hoping that the next sign will have your name on it....as you approach the end of the line, you begin to walk slower and slower dreading the mob of tuk-tuk drivers all clamering at the chance to wisk you away in their tuktuk. If you are one of the unfortunate ones who does not see a sign with your name on it, you try to hide the disappointed look, you whisper that plan B is to find a phone, and you plow head on through the mob, at first with a no thank you, then a no, then just a shake of the head and then just eyes straight forward with a look that a serious destination is in persuit.
We call - the owner says the driver is just 15-20min away. We go back past the mob, behind the safety bars of the airport security line and sit, and wait and wait. 30min later, we call again - supposedly the driver is there waiting for us but we don't see each other. He's supposedly wearing a yellow shirt - this is a small airport mind you - so while Yenyy talks on the phone to the owner, I go and tap various men wearing yellow shirts saying "Delight Hotel?" - fortunately there weren't that many yellow shirt wearing men so I didn't make a huge fool of myself. The hotel owner calls the driver on his cell phone - we continue to have this bizarre 3 way conversation - supposedly he's there we're both supposed to wave - there are the two Americans waving in the middle of the street and this poor driver waving his Delight sign with no progress being made on either end.
"Are you sure you are in Cochin the owner asks". We pull out our ticket stub - show it to the woman whose phone we are using - and ask her if we are in Cochin. She confirms that we are (on reflection we think she might have thought we asked her if our ticket stub said Cochin and not whether we were really at Cochin airport, but who really knows). We ask for the drivers direct cell phone number. We ask the woman to call him since he doesn't speak english very well, but of course neither did the woman who owned the phone. Talk about a serious miss communication and hugely important details being lost in translation - it all happened here.
After two hours of this phone charade, we gave up. It began to rain...hard! The woman invited us into her booth - she was kind and took pity on us. We said we'd just hire another driver - so she called one of the guys over and said to make sure they took good care of us and to drive slow. We were very appreciative of her kindness.
It wasn't until we showed the driver where we were trying to go that we realized we were in Chenni - a completely different State and over a 6 hour drive away. Exhausted, confused and now frustrated we thank the woman - give her a bunch of American coins which she asked if we had and a five dollar bill, and ran back to the airport ticket counter. There had been a mistake...OBVIOUSLY! There was a layover no one told us about that was supposed to be for just 25min - but the plane was delayed for exactly two hours and was going to take off in 10 min. We could still make it....and long story long we did...just barley. And the poor driver - who waited 2hrs driving in circles looking for the non-existant Americans - well we apologized and still paid him, all parties felt bad about it, but in the end we all had a good laugh, and another bizarre story to take home.
Mumbai to Goa (7)
It was an hour and a half bumpy, whindy car ride full of sudden stops, swerves and once again near misses before we arrived at Pallolem Beach. Goa is known for its beaches and is on the west coast of India. It is much more lush and green and covered with coconut trees. It is also much more hot and humid. We were generously welcomed by many mosquitos egarly awaiting the fresh meat that had just arrived, calmly ignoring our deet covered limbs.
Our room was a thatched small hut with a mosquito net over the bed. The toliet and showers were outside a few hundred feet away. There was no hot water, but honestly you didn't need it. You must remember to bring your own toliet paper to the stall or...well....you can imagine. Bring your own soap too for washing. It was rustic, but actually quite good and relaxing. The beach itself was beautiful although a bit touristy it was calm, relaxing and most important....quiet!!! No horns! Although burning the trash was still common here, and the clothes we had washed were returned smelling like burnt wood. I picked up a cold here, but the humid air I think helped. I was now taking Pepto Bismol Tablets and Tylenol in the morning, and Doxyclyin (for malaria), Tums and Theraflu in the evening. I felt a bit like a walking drug store but I didn't have any more cipro and really really didn't want to get any worse than I was.
Two weeks into the trip I found myself finally wanting something other than Indian food. We ate a great resturant right on the beach, where the guy taking our order sat down with us and explained the menu. I had chowmein and was happy!
Our room was a thatched small hut with a mosquito net over the bed. The toliet and showers were outside a few hundred feet away. There was no hot water, but honestly you didn't need it. You must remember to bring your own toliet paper to the stall or...well....you can imagine. Bring your own soap too for washing. It was rustic, but actually quite good and relaxing. The beach itself was beautiful although a bit touristy it was calm, relaxing and most important....quiet!!! No horns! Although burning the trash was still common here, and the clothes we had washed were returned smelling like burnt wood. I picked up a cold here, but the humid air I think helped. I was now taking Pepto Bismol Tablets and Tylenol in the morning, and Doxyclyin (for malaria), Tums and Theraflu in the evening. I felt a bit like a walking drug store but I didn't have any more cipro and really really didn't want to get any worse than I was.
Two weeks into the trip I found myself finally wanting something other than Indian food. We ate a great resturant right on the beach, where the guy taking our order sat down with us and explained the menu. I had chowmein and was happy!
Udaipur to Mumbai (6)
We had a three hour lay over in Mumbai before heading onto Goa. We were able to see my old friend Neale whom I met in Alaska many years back. He is from Mumbai and picked us up at the airport and drove us around the beach and pointed out where all the Bollywood stars lived, and then we had lunch at the Taj Hotel. This is a 5 star hotel chain and is the nicest place Yenyy and I have eaten at during our travels here. Its a gated hotel and before entering your hood and trunk of the car are inspected for bombs before you are allowed in. I wasn't sure if I felt safer or more concerned with the need for this inspection, but we entered all the same.
Mumbai would have been ideal city to stay in for a few days since Neale was willing to be our personal tour guide, and even though he begged us to change our tickets to a later date, we just couldn't handle any more big cities.
Mumbai would have been ideal city to stay in for a few days since Neale was willing to be our personal tour guide, and even though he begged us to change our tickets to a later date, we just couldn't handle any more big cities.
Udaipur (5)
Udaipur is probably my favorite city thus far. It is much more layed back, less crowded, less haggeling and more clean. It was the first city where we actually saw garbage trucks. I was recovering sadly from a spout of travelers diahreaha at this point, so I became a bit more cautious about what my poor stomach was intaking. But three days of cipro seemed to do the trick. I tried my favorite dish Shahi Paneer here, but it was coated with shreded coconut, and still did not beat Delhi's dish. Our accomodation was...well....interesting. It was in a gueshouse, there was hot water as long as you turned on the switch 20-30min before you needed it. Geko's quietly kept us company scampering the walls, while we rested and caught our bearings. The Hindu temple blasted chants by loud speaker in the evening, and the Mosque blasted the call to prayer by morning. Best time to sleep was between the hours of 1am - 5am when it was almost completly quiet.
We had met a woman named Judith in Agra and several days later we met her randomly again in Udaipur. It was fortunate for us, because she helped us solidify our plans for the remaining of our trip in the south of which she was very familiar.
We had met a woman named Judith in Agra and several days later we met her randomly again in Udaipur. It was fortunate for us, because she helped us solidify our plans for the remaining of our trip in the south of which she was very familiar.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Jaipur to Udaipur (4)
We booked a night train from Jaipur to Udaipur in a sleeper car - 2nd class / no AC which was 10 hours long. Each car had 8 people - which ours was all men. We were a little nervous I think of how this part of the journey would go. When the morning arrived and we still had another 2 hours of travel we changed the car from sleeper bunks to a seating arrangement - four on each bench facing each other. This is where I met Samual, a man from Nigeria studing to be a dentist in Delhi and was traveling with his pastor and some others to a wedding. I think I was still struggling heavily with seeing so much poverty up close and personal. I was and still do feel a bit helpless and frustrated and want to know how to make things better. Speaking with Samual about the problems in Nigeria, India and around the world was enlightening, and he reminded me that Rome was not built in a day. The conversation is much too detailed to list here, but I was thankful for our exchange in words.
Agra to Jaipur (3)
After Agra we headed to Jaipur in the state of Rajasthan. We took an auto rickshaw or the Indian Helicopter, as our guide Mohammad liked to call it, to the old city Bazaars. Its basically 3 sq miles of shopping and haggling. The side streets seem to lead to more endless roads of more shopping of leather goods, textiles, jewelery and gems. After 3 hours of bizarre bazaar wondering we headed to the outskirts of the city where there are more shops that supply goods directly from the factory.
We "supposedly" toured a part of the 5th largest factory in therms of employment. They employ approx. 800 workers who are mostly from West Bengal. They come on a two year contract where they work 6 days a week, 8hours a day hand sowing the tiniest beads onto the cloth that makes saris, comforters etc. They are not paid until the end of their 2 yr contract and then they are given 50 rupees per day that they worked which is roughly $350 U.S. dollars. They are given a place to sleep which is on the ground at the factory and food and water. The factory then sales some of the cloth wholesale in India and the rest is exported over sea's where the majority of the profit is made by the store to consumer.
There is a large variety of craftsmanship, quality of cloth and of course price. But something sold for $100 in India could easily be sold for $800 abroad. The level of poverty is intense and it is impossible not to see. It is at times so prevalent that I can't help but wonder if slowly people become immune to it.
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